Path to Acceptance
by Kurohane Ookami
Summary: Muramasa thought he could control the reckless wind spirit. He was wrong. There were only a small handful of the zanpakuto still under his control, and Kazeshini wasn't one of them. The only reason he had manifested was to try to understand why his wielder continued to reject him.


_Memories consume_

_Like opening the wound_

_I'm picking me apart again_

He sighed, bored with the events around him. Whirling a scythe vaguely, he took note of a couple of the more sophisticated zanpakuto staring at him with distaste.

He hated it when someone looked at him like that. It ticked him off, made him want to tear all their worthless throats out.

Like someone else he'd known.

_You all assume _

_I'm searching in my room_

_Unless I try to start again_

He huffed, staring out at the thick foliage around him, feeling that familiar loneliness that always seemed to creep up on him at the least opportune moments.

They all thought he was out on patrol- and technically, they weren't wrong. He was just taking the scenic route.

And by scenic, he meant the usual dangerous situation that his former wielder refused to get himself into. Something that had _infuriated_ him beyond all else while he'd been stuck with the guy.

But now, he was free.

_I don't want to be the one_

_The battles always choose_

'_Cause inside I realize_

_That I'm the one confused_

He absolutely _loathed_ Muramasa. He wanted nothing more than to rip him to shreds with his scythe. Unfortunately, he knew that he would never be able to get close enough to the guy without his most loyal cronies getting in the way. Sure, he didn't like them, but they were having an identity crisis too. It wasn't really fair to take out his frustrations on them when they were going through the exact thing he was.

Sometimes, the emptiness would get to him.

Again, something that irritated him beyond all freaking belief. This was what he'd always wanted, right? To be free, to make that thickheaded idiot realize that they weren't all that different?

_I don't know what's worth fighting for_

_Or why I have to scream_

_I don't know why I instigate  
And say what I don't mean_

"You're a coward." He sneered at his former wielder, his scythe pinning him down by the throat.

Hisagi gasped like a fish out of water as the blade dug deeper into the fragile skin, drawing the familiar crimson that marked the entrance of blood.

"You couldn't wield me if you tried." He continued. "You're too cowardly. You want to know why? Because you refuse to listen. You and I are one and the same. Why can't you just get over that fact and we continue on with our miserable lives?"

"You and I are nothing alike!" Hisagi spat back. "I'm nothing like you!"

"That's where you're wrong, partner." He spat back, the sudden anger returning. How thickheaded was this moron?

_I don't know how I got this way_

_I know it's not alright_

_So I'm breaking the habit_

_I'm breaking the habit tonight_

Muramasa thought he could control the reckless wind spirit.

He was wrong.

There were only a small handful of the zanpakuto still under his control, and Kazeshini wasn't one of them. The only reason he had manifested was to try to understand why his wielder continued to reject him.

Apparently, it was because he was in denial.

He whirled one of his scythes around, as he usually did when he became restless. There wasn't a lot to do in the caves, and while he was on speaking terms with Hyorinmaru and Haineko, no one really made an attempt to get along with him.

Other than creepy-psycho-flower-sword-dude, who he was pretty sure belonged to the Taicho of the Sixth Division.

"Kazeshini."

"What." He snapped. He really wasn't in the mood for this shit.

"You're going out tonight with the others. Another demonstration is in order for the shinigami."

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes, seriously not looking forward to listening to Sode no Shirayuki drone on about how beautiful she was, and that he wielder never wanted her to leave because of her beauty. In fact, he'd rather just whack her over the head and leave her somewhere. Far away. With no one but herself.

Now _that_ sounded appealing.

_Clutching my cure_

_I tightly lock the door_

_I try to catch my breath again_

He was watching his wielder again.

He didn't know what compelled him to return here, to watch the mundane life of someone he'd always known.

Perhaps it was that his wielder denied him with the freedom that other wielders allowed their zanpakuto. The senses of scent, taste, sight. He never knew what his wielder was up to because he was treated like a monster.

Hisagi seemed to sense that he was being watched: his head snapped up, and the spirit knew that his eyes were roaming the room around him, as if he were being watched from behind the chairs, or the couch.

He remained where he was, his crimson and charcoal form motionless, scythes in hand but still. The roof he was on was cool against his skin, but he would not allow himself to relax. He was, technically, in the danger zone. Any passing shinigami could pass by and see him, pursue. And of course, he knew exactly who would come after him with the most fire.

"_UP THERE!"_

Cursing, he chanced a look down below. A large group of lesser shinigami were pointing and drawing their weapons.

Hisagi whirled, his eyes widening as he realized what had been watching him the entire time. However, they then narrowed, and the window he'd been observing his wielder through became a doorway for the lieutenant.

He darted off of the roof, using his superior skill in stealth to simply disappear from sight.

But they were still following. They were on his scent, and that was something that he couldn't help no matter what he did.

_I hurt much more_

_Than any time before_

_I had no options left again_

They'd caught him.

He was pinned below them in the ravine, his teeth bared in a savage snarl as he fought against the kido that held him in place.

They scaled the ravine, reckless in their exhilaration. Dread pooled suddenly in his stomach as he made out the emotionless features of Hisagi. Hissing, he struggled more violently, ignoring the pain and the scent of seared flesh as the kido dug deeper. He refused to go like this, like some kind of cornered prey. This went against every one of his instincts, but he would run.

The kido broke against the pressure a second before Hisagi struck, his blade piercing through his side; blood the color of rubies seeping out around the blade.

Choking in shock, he reeled away, summoning the ever present scythes that represented his weapon form, whirling them with deadly accuracy, his features twisted into a savage grin as bloodlust overtook him.

_I don't want to be the one_

_The battles always choose_

'_Cause inside I realize_

_That I'm the one confused_

He'd managed to escape, this time.

Blood seemed to pour from underneath his shaky hand as he pressed it against the wound, his breath coming in heavy pants.

Glancing over his shoulder again, he caught the sound of slow footsteps.

Growling lowly, he turned to meet whoever thought they could hunt him down.

But the person that stepped through the trees took him from surprise.

"What do you want?" he spat, backing up, feeling dizzy from the blood loss. "Back to kill me? Shut me up in the darkness again?"

Hisagi said nothing, his eyes showing an emotion that he couldn't place. Taking another step forward, he felt his teeth drawing back in an animalistic snarl.

Pausing, his former wielder looked at him with that expression again, infuriating the zanpakuto spirit. "What." He growled. "Making me feel like I have a chance to run? Or are you just here to taunt me? I know that's what happened to the others. Arrogant shinigami who think we deserve to be locked away from the world, hidden so that no one can see their strength or share their minds."

There was bitterness laced through his voice, and he vaguely glanced up at Hisagi.

"There are shinigami who are terrified of their zanpakuto too, terrified of their own souls. So they lock them away, refuse to contact them, deny them shikai in battle. Deny them the senses that the other shinigami allow their zanpakuto as a show of trust. Do you know what it's like, to share your abilities with someone who never uses them?" He snapped. "Because I do."

The world dipped suddenly, and he found himself looking up towards the sky a moment later, his mind fuzzing around the edges.

_I don't know what's worth fighting for_

_Or why I have to scream_

_I don't know why I instigate_

_And say what I don't mean_

"You could have died!" Haineko shrilled at him, her ears laid back in anger. "How could you be so stupid!?"

He said nothing, limping past her and leaping up into the highest reaches of the caves, where he knew he would get quiet. He needed quiet.

What he didn't understand was why he'd been partially healed.

His thoughts were in turmoil, his side throbbing in time to his heartbeat, and all he really wanted to do at the moment was curl up and fall asleep.

_I don't know how I got this way_

_I'll never be alright_

_So I'm breaking the habit_

_I'm breaking the habit tonight_

"I am very disappointed in you, Kazeshini." Muramasa's low voice rumbled. "You endangered us all by doing something so reckless."

He barely contained himself, down on one knee in front of this pompous bastard who thought he _owned_ them.

"It won't happen again." He replied dully, too exhausted to even think about starting an argument with the other zanpakuto spirit. He needed to conserve his energy, not waste it.

_Why did he let me go? Why didn't he just finish it then and there, make me bow to him? _

He pondered on this thought as sleep finally overcame him.

_I'll paint it on the walls_

'_Cause I'm the one at fault_

_I'll never fight again_

_And this is how it ends_

As always, he was drawn back like a moth to a flame.

It was really beginning to grate on what little nerves he had left.

"You came back."

It wasn't a question, just a simple statement. Nonetheless, it had his hackles raised immediately, and he turned.

He said nothing, something that Hisagi had done himself not all that long ago.

"Kazeshini." Hisagi said cautiously, his hand near the hilt of his soulless zanpakuto. "Why?"

He shrugged halfheartedly, not knowing the answer himself.

_I don't know what's worth fighting for_

_Or why I have to scream_

_But now I have some clarity_

_To show you what I mean_

"I.." the other male trailed off, unsure of what to say. "I don't know how I can apologize for something that I've been doing for so long, but- I'm sorry."

Those were the words he'd longed to hear for so long. The acceptance had finally begun.

He felt a small smile beginning to pull at his lips, a genuine one, and the first in a long time. He allowed the scythes in his hands to disappear back inside of himself, and he held out a hand.

"Partners?" he queried, already sensing the answer.

Hisagi looked at him hesitantly for a moment before reaching out and clasping his hand.

"Partners." He admitted.

_I don't know how I got this way_

_I'll never be alright_

_So I'm breaking the habit_

_Breaking the habit_

_I'm breaking the habit tonight_

He knew they still had a long way to go in their relationship, but he could wait a little longer.

He was Kazeshini; he was Shuhei Hisagi's zanpakuto.

And he was damn proud of it.


End file.
